Burn Notice: A Friend in Need
by Revieweverything100
Summary: This isn't the first time Barry has asked Michael for a favor, but it's the first time it's been this personal. Fake realtors are trying to kil Barry's grandmother for her two million dollar property.


**Burn Notice**

**A Friend in Need**

**Based on the TV Series Burn Notice, created by Matt Nix**

**Prologue**

_My name is Michael Weston, I used to be a spy, until I was let go. When a spy gets fired, they don't get a pink slip. They cut him off. They burn him. When you're burned, you've got nothing: no cash, no credit, no job history. You're stuck in whatever city they decide to dump you in. You do whatever work comes your way. You rely on anyone who's still talking to you: a trigger-happy ex-girlfriend, an old friend who used to inform on you to the FBI...family too—if you're desperate. Bottom line: As long as you're burned, you're not going anywhere._

**Chapter 1**

_It doesn't matter how many achievements you've unlocked on Call of Duty, nothing can prepare you for an actual shoot-out. With bullets flying left and right, you can pretty much assume that what you did with your Xbox controller is nothing, compared to what you're about to handle._

Sam and I were crouching behind a car; five huge guys were holding my money launderer, Barry, hostage with a gun held to his head.

_Now, on the other hand, you can learn something from cover shooters. Pop out only when you are absolutely sure that you're not going to stand up and receive a bullet to the skull._

I popped out and shot two men, including the one holding Barry the three other guys ran over and picked up Barry, who had fallen from the impact of the shot.

"You make another move, and I _will_ shoot him!" One of the men shouted.

_You don't hold someone hostage with intent of killing them. The sole purpose of a hostage is to draw your target closer and then kill your target, not the hostage. _

I gave Sam a nod and then we popped out and shot the three men. I walked over to Barry.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"They had a disagreement with one of my clients." Barry said.

"And who would that be?"

"My grandma."

I sighed; Barry would need my help, _again_. It felt like just yesterday when he approached me in a bar and asked me to help a man whose mother was dying of cancer.

The man had pissed off a gang of bikers named the Ghouls. The whole mess ended up almost getting my mom killed.

"Why are they after your grandmother?" I asked.

"Her property is worth millions, but she refuses to sell."

"And the easiest way to get the money was to kill her." I finished for him.

"Yeah," he said.

I sighed again. "What can I do for you?"

"Live with her for a couple of days—protect her . . . only until we can get rid of these realtors." He said.

"Wait a minute . . . those men were realtors?"

"Yep, they run a scam syndicate, trying to cheat old ladies out of their money."

I had dealt with this kind of situation before; a friend of my mothers had been scammed out of all of her money.

On the other hand, living with a woman in her eighties didn't sound great.

"Maybe Fi can. . ." I started, but he cut me off.

"I thought about that," he said, "but do you honestly think she would go for it?"

I didn't have to answer. Of course she wouldn't, it's just not who she is. Sam had joined us by now. He just kept laughing.

"I'll do it if Sam comes too." I said.

Sam looked stunned, that was the last thing he wanted. Sam looked around, then after a few long seconds he finally spoke up.

"I'll do it, but the fridge has to be stocked with beer and the TV better be turned to _ESPN _at all times." He said.

Barry said that would be fine and then asked me if there was anything I needed.

"Just some blueberry yogurt will do." I told him.

He nodded and said he would call us with the address tomorrow.

"You're too nice Mikey." Sam told me after we had gotten into my car.

"I'm working on it." I told him.

**Chapter 2**

_The elderly are considered to be some of the most difficult people to put up with, right after teenagers. The trick to dealing with old people is just to pretend to listen and be interested in the endless stories that make little to no sense. Talking about Golden Girls doesn't hurt either._

"And that's how I had my double eye surgery." Nora Wheatley—Barry's grandma—said, after we had been there a couple hours. She had told us an elaborate story about her surgery and Sam and I had only caught the last few words. How did we come around to this?

"That's fascinating." I told her.

"The good Lord blessed you that day!" Sam added.

_And that's_ _all you have to say._

"So," I started, "what happened with these realtors?"

She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth in rocking chair.

"Well," She said, "Barry, said these people were here to help me, but they just caused so much stress. They did that." She said, pointing to a broken window, sealed with duct tape.

Her house was old and decrepit; it was unsafe for her to just live here.

"We're going to fix this." Sam assured her.

"Barry just says you're friends. What do you two do?" She asked.

Sam said "bounty hunters" and I said "club bouncers" at the same time. Nora looked confused.

"We're here to help." I said, hoping to put the matter of who we were exactly to bed. I didn't think she would take well to our real selves.

_Most elderly don't like the concept of a "burned spy" and "alcoholic ex-Navy Seal". _

_Those aren't the two labels you throw out when trying to win friends and influence people._

"So, how 'bout them _Golden Girls_?" Sam asked, trying to change the subject.

"Did you see the one where Betty White…" She started. That's when Sam and I zoned out, thinking about, most likely, two totally different things.

I was trying to figure out how to stop the "realtors" who wanted the property so bad. Barry said they wouldn't try tonight, but I had to prepare just in case.

"I'm going to use the restroom, real quick." I said.

I went to the bathroom, to see what could be used as a weapon, and to see what ways they could break in.

_When you're expecting a break in, you don't have to just wait for it to happen. Take action. _

_A bathroom is one of the first places someone will try to break into, simply because there is only a twenty-six percent chance that someone will be in the bathroom the moment you break in. The easiest way to "crook proof" you're house is to start with windows. Some people assume that if you duct tape your windows, you'll be safe. Nothing could be further from the truth. What you should do, however, is spray insulation around any cracks in the seal around the window. If you don't, smart crooks can cave out the window frame. Now typically when you want to silently break a window, you cut a circle on the glass with a sharp knife, then cover the circle with thin blanket and—with a thick glove on—smash the window with your fist. The circular area you cut will break, so you can stick your hand in and unlock the window. The windows are just part of the situation. You should also check the entire house. First check all the doors and ensure they have dead bolts. Check all the parts to the deadbolt and make sure it is working properly. The most overlooked part of the dead bolt is the anchor point in the door frame. _

_The anchor point should be mounted onto the studs behind the door frame with hardened steel screws that go all the way through the stud. Once the doors are secure check all of your windows to make sure they are locked. Windows are harder to secure because all the thief has to do is break the glass in the aforementioned way. Make sure there is nothing inside the house near the window that will help a crook gain entry such as a table allowing him to easily climb into the house. Make sure there is nothing outside the window that will give the crook access to the window such as an air conditioner or chair. Also, clear any shrubs or brush that would help a crook conceal his activity from neighbors or those passing by. Placing motion lights on the outside of the residence is probably the best deterrent short of arming your home with an alarm. Place motion lights anywhere entry may be gained. Not only does this act as a deterrent it also helps the police when they are patrolling your area and may alert them to suspicious activity near your home. A monitored alarm system is a nice addition to a residence and most likely the best deterrent but the monthly cost can keep most people from outfitting their home. _

_With this system if someone breaks into your home a silent alarm or sometimes an audible alarm will sound and a monitoring center will call the police. The disadvantage to this system is a monthly monitoring fee. A cheaper alternative would be an audible system that isn't monitored. Once this system is installed there are no monthly monitoring costs. This system sounds an audible alarm to alert the neighbors and often will send the thief running. The disadvantage is that a monitoring center isn't notified and if your neighbors don't hear it to call the police no one will respond._

By the time I had finished, Nora and Sam had come into the kitchen, it was after six o'clock.

"Are you two hungry?" Nora asked.

"Sure." We both said.

"Let me get the out the TV dinners." She said.

**Chapter 3**

_When you're a spy, you're used to eating crappy food. However there's nothing worse or better than a TV dinner. It all depends on the brand. Hungry Man and Banquet are fine; it's when you end up eating Wal-Mart brand that you're in trouble. Nora Wheatley is one of the people who buys Wal-Mart TV dinners. If you find yourself eating one of these disgusting meals, do yourself a favor, and mind the following rules._

_Eat your veggies first. It's the second worst tasting food on your tray, it doesn't matter how bad the rest taste. If you can hold down the vegetables, you'll be okay. _

_Don't chew, just swallow. This applies to everything put in front of you. The less you chew, the less you taste._

_Don't ever . . . ever eat the desert. Chances are it is the most disgusting thing on the tray. Sure, you'll be hungry, but you can ask for crackers late._

"Mmm, that's good, isn't it?" Nora asked.

Sam and I nodded, trying not to throw up what _might _have been meatloaf in our mouths. We weren't sure, from what it tasted like, it could over been ground up dirt.

"How long have you two known Barry?" She asked.

Why couldn't she just except that we were there to help?  
"I've known Barry for years, Sam here, hasn't know him as long, but we're all pretty good friends." I told her.

"Oh," she said.

Just then there was a knock at the door, it was Barry.

"Hey, Barry," Sam said.

"Hi, can I talk to you two?" He asked us.

"Sure." I said, happy to get up from the awful meal.

We walked into her living room.

"Okay," he started. "They're going to be coming tomorrow night. I heard on the listening device you gave me." Barry said.

"Alright," I said, "here's what you need to do, tomorrow afternoon, get her out of the house, we'll have to disguise her incase they're watching."

"Why not just take her tonight?" He asked.

"Because, they could find out she's with you, then you'd both be dead." I said.

Sam nodded in agreement.

"Okay," Barry said, "what time should I pick her up?"

"Fourish." I answered.

He nodded, walked into the kitchen, hugged Nora and told her he loved, and then left.

"Such a nice boy," She said.

Sam and I nodded.

"He does so well as a mailman." She added.

_And Barry didn't want us to lie to her?_

**Chapter 4**

"…And this is my son Ernie…" Nora continued, pointing to a picture. She had been telling us for the past three hours about _everything_ in her life. "Well, look at that," she said, "its twelve-thirty, why time just flies when you're having fun, doesn't it, fellas?"

Sam and I nodded; these hours had crept by so slowly, that we thought we were Nora's age.

"Let's head off to bed, what do you say?" She asked.

"Sure." I said.

"You're two rooms are upstairs, mine's to the right." She told us once we were in her hallway.

Sam and I went up to our rooms.

"This was the longest day of my life, Mikey, and I was in the Navy." Sam said.

"It'll all be over tomorrow." I told him.

"I might shoot myself in the middle of the night. Just so I don't have to endure tomorrow." Sam said.

"It's not the bad."

"Mikey, she doesn't stop talking, _ever_. I thought I was going die when she pulled out the scrap books."

"Shh," I said, "she can hear you."

"No she can't, she couldn't hear a gunshot if it was right next to her face!"

Nora walked up the stairs.

"Now boys, I'm quite upset about what you're talking about." She said.

"Ma'am, he didn't mean it." I said.

"Well, alright, but no more conversations about sex while you're in this house. Understand?"

"Yes ma'am," we said at together.

"You see?" Sam said, once she had gone downstairs.

**Chapter 5**

Barry picked up his grandma around four. A couple hours later we saw car drive up the back way to the house. Sam and I each had a nine millimeter and were ready to go. As expected, the "realtors" tried to come in the bathroom. They tried to cut a hole and break through the window to unlock it, of course, they did it wrong and the shattering of the glass was deafening. Two men came in, carrying M16s. One ran into the kitchen—which was the room we were in—and shouted "Time to die, old woman!" I shot him in the kneecap, he collapsed to the ground. The other ran in and Sam shot him in the arm. "How many are left?" I asked him.

"Just us," he said.

"Is that so?" I said, Fi had been staking out their office, with a listening device, and said there were eleven men who were in on it.

"Yes." He said.

"Well then." I said. I called Fi and told her to "do it", which meant, blow up their office.

"Know what that was?" I asked.

"No." He said.

"You're office; you better hope no one was in there." In reality, Fi had gotten them all to leave the country.

"You're next." Sam told him.

"No!" He shouted.

"Yes," I said, "but you can stop it, all you have to do is go to Mexico—I have you tickets—and never come back."

"Deal," he said.

Sam got them up, fixed their wounds and took them to the airport. Later that day, Barry came to Nora's house, and dropped her off.

"Thanks, man." He said.

"No problem." I told him. "Just don't do it again."

"I'll try not to."

_When you're a spy, friends are far and few between. So when they ask you a favor, do what you can. Because the more friends you have, the better. Because the worst thing you can be in this business…is alone._


End file.
